Monthly Archives: December 2009

I must commit to quit!

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I’m not one to set New Year’s resolutions, mostly because I know I’ll never follow through with them.

Typically, setting a resolution is only setting myself up for failure. At my age, I ought to know better!

This year, however, I’ve decided to set just one goal. I’ve decided to officially quit farming … virtual farming, that is.

Earlier this week, I announced to all my FarmTown friends on Facebook that I quit. No longer will I plant beet seeds and harvest them every four hours on my days off. No longer will I plant asparagus at night, only to get up in the morning and harvest the crop before work. No more potato plantings, strawberry seedings or pumpkin picking.

Said one of my Facebook friends, "I’ll believe it when I see it!"

That’s as good as a double-dog-dare, so I must, I must, I must commit to quit!

I’ve told my friends to quit sending me FarmTown gifts so that I’m not tempted to sign in, accept gifts and plant seeds just "one more time!"

Just to show how much they listen, I’ve received three fuel tanks in the last 24 hours. Oh, I know they’re trying to tempt me, but I’m not taking the bait!

After seven months, I’d made it to Level 41 in FarmTown … midway through the rank of Absolute Farmer. I don’t quite know what that means, but it’s a higher rank than virtuoso, which I didn’t think was a very good name for a farmer anyway.

I’ve tried several times to quit farming this year, but then the makers of FarmTown added goats and, well, I just had to have some. I almost quit a while later, but then they added Halloween decorations. The third time, it was the addition of a pretty red combine that I just had to have parked on my farm.

Then it was patches of snow, wrapped gifts, snow-covered pine trees and poinsettia plants. Pretty soon I had so much stuff on my virtual farm that when I tried to do anything, a little window popped up on my computer that said Low Virtual Memory. And then there were the computer crashes.

Enough! Enough, I say. It came to the point that farming wasn’t fun anymore. It was frustrating, it was time-consuming and I never accomplished anything. It’s not like being able to finish a good book or complete a stitching project. I was racking up coins that I couldn’t spend because my farm was already full of stuff, and I was throwing away hours of time that could have been spent more productively.

Now that I’ve shared my New Year’s resolution, I must stick to it. My Facebook friends are watching!

Stir-crazy in a snowstorm

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As you may have read in my last blog, my parents rescued me from a long and lonely Christmas on Christmas Eve morning with their 4-wheel-drive pickup truck.

While I was thankful to be spending the time with actual people, after two days of being stranded at the farm with parents, I was ready to return home by Saturday morning. The extra-firm mattress at the farm was nothing like my pillow-top mattress at home, and the TV viewing was adequate … but I’ve seen enough Hallmark and Lifetime movie marathons to last a couple of months!

What I missed the most was my computer. If I’d had my computer, I could have finished a couple of projects for work, I could have written some blog posts, I could have researched my trip to New Orleans and Atlanta in January … I could have done so many things!

Instead, I stitched. That was probably a good thing. I had a deadline, and it was quickly coming! As of Christmas Day, I finished the two doilies that needed to get done, and managed to finish another four ornaments I’d started probably a couple of years ago. I’m proud to say, my stash of UFO’s (Unfinished Objects) has been whittled down by one piece of material. (Shown here are the projects I finished.)

When I wasn’t stitching, I was spoiling my loveable mutt Molly. She apparently has my parents wrapped around her tail … getting away with far more than any dog we had while I was growing up on the farm. For one, my parents actually let Molly come into the house … not just into the house, but into their living room … on the carpet!

That is a complete break-through. My parents have always been firm believers that any four-legged critter belongs outside or in the barn. That goes for dogs and cats alike!

Molly has been under the care of my parents since I bought my house in town nearly four years ago. I get out to see her when I can, and give her squeeky toys, doggie treats and other essentials each year in her Christmas gift bag. In my haste to leave before the worst of the storm hit, however, I forgot to take her gifts out with me this Christmas.

So, instead of playing with new toys on Christmas Day, Molly came into the house, laid in the middle of the living room floor and basked in the glory of a belly rub. She nudged me every so often with her cold nose when I stopped … a trick I’m pretty sure she learned from our dear-departed Misty, my parents’ dog.

Molly, like all dogs, is pretty special. It took being snowed-in at the farm to learn some of her habits … a single bark lets us know she needs to go outside to take care of business; a scratch at the door means she wants to come in for a while and see what we’re up to; and a series of barks means there’s company … either the human variety or a bunny that she must chase.

Perhaps the most memorable of our snowstorm experience was tossing Molly’s favorite chew toy … a squeeky ice cream cone … out the back door of the house. It sunk just a bit into the new fallen snow, but in Molly’s hyperactive state, she pounced on the cone and buried it. She spent several minutes with her head shoved into the snow looking for it, and came up for breath with a mound of fluffy white stuff on top of her nose.

The more I laughed, the more hyper she became!

After a few minutes, Molly gave up and headed off in search of bunnies and I returned to the warmth of the house.

When I went out to the garage to check on her a while later, there was the ice cream cone, right in front of the door.

I don’t know if she was challenging me to throw it out into the snowbank again for her, or if she was just wanting to prove that she found her toy and deserved a treat.

Thank heaven for silly dogs to keep from going stir-crazy in a snowstorm!

Daddy looked a lot like Santa

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I know, I know, Christmas is over, right? Well, I have a feeling it isn’t for a lot of people this year because of that big, bad snowstorm.

Fortunately, our family Christmas was planned around the New Year this year, so I didn’t have the disappointment that others may have experienced. Now, if Mother Nature comes with another blizzard around New Year’s Day, I might get a little cranky.

Frankly, there is no more room for snow in my yard! The pile at the end of my driveway is already too high to safely see street traffic.

For all of the headaches caused by snowstorms, I heard a bit of excitement in the air earlier this week about being snowed in and experiencing a good, old-fashioned blizzard.

It got me thinking about growing up on the farm south of Worthington.

While I don’t recall there ever being a blizzard on Christmas day, we were always thrilled to be able to stay home and not travel. For all we cared, the snow could have piled up and the wind could have whipped it all about. We were happy because we were together, we were thrilled to play with our new toys from Santa, and we were filled up on Mom’s home cooking … turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing … the spread just went on and on.

I was thinking my Christmas this year would be spent at home, alone, because of the storm. Stranded just eight miles from the farm where I grew up … but it could just as well be 200 miles if I can’t get home for Christmas.

But wait, what is that outside my door? Is it Santa? Did he arrive a little early this year?

Aw, no. It’s just Mom and Dad. They’ve come to save me from having a lonely holiday. The truck is running in the driveway. I guess it’s time to leave my computer behind for a few days and get a move on!

I plan to return to civilization today, if the storm passes!

Stranded by snow

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I’ve been sitting at my home computer, watching the snow fall gently outside my window for a while this morning. Every time I look out, it seems to be snowing just a little bit harder, so I think I’m just not going to look anymore!

It may be a long and lonely Christmas weekend if I’m stuck at home. Yesterday, the plan was that my folks would drive in with their 4-wheel-drive pickup, we’d go to Lakefield for Andrea Ruesch’s funeral, and then they’d take me to the farm to get snowed in with them and my loveable mutt Molly.

Now, it appears as though those plans won’t even be possible.

The folks are looking out their window at the farm and wishing they didn’t have to be home alone for Christmas, and I’m doing the same here in town. I never imagined I’d be living eight miles from the farm and not make it home for Christmas.

Oh, we haven’t given up yet. Maybe things will clear off for a bit later today.

If that happens, I’ll be without my technology (computer and cable TV) until sometime this weekend. Hmm, now those are the makings of an old-fashioned blizzard!

Please be safe my Farm Bleat readers. I wish for you a holiday filled with the love of family and friends … or at least that you be cozy and warm, nestled in with a good book or, in my case, a few needlework projects.

Have a Merry Christmas.

Remembering Andrea

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For those of you Farm Bleat readers who also read the Daily Globe, today’s edition features a story about Andrea Ruesch, a former Worthingtonian who died suddenly on Sunday at the age of 37. She was two years younger than me … graduated with my younger brother, in fact.

Like everyone who knew her, I struggle to understand why something like this happens. She was too young to die. She had too much to look forward to. She had great things yet to accomplish.

Why? Why now?

As I was talking to my Mom last night over the telephone, I believe I asked that very question. Mom reminded me of a time, not so long ago, when a cousin of mine lost his wife to cancer and was left to raise their three young children. Why did she have to die? As Christians, we tell ourselves that God simply needed them in Heaven for something so much more special. Still, I have trouble trying to understand something like this. I guess that makes me human.

I don’t want this to be a sad blog post, even though the tears are streaming down my face as I write this. I want to tell you about the Andrea I will always remember.

Andrea and I grew up in the Nobles County 4-H program. She was a member of the Lorain Livewires, and I was an Ocheda Beaver. We served together as county 4-H Ambassadors, we showed livestock and poultry at the State Fair, we represented the county at the state-wide Junior Leadership Conference (JLC) and traveled together on Citizenship Washington Focus and the 4-H Interstate Exchange program between Nobles County and Shenandoah County, Va.

We even had the same dream of becoming 4-H Extension agents some day. Her dream came true. Mine didn’t. She helped the children of southwest Minnesota grow into confident leaders, whereas it’s been part of my job to share with readers the wonderful stories of 4-H and its impact on our youths.

Andrea, well … she was the perfect fit for the 4-H program. For as far back as I can remember, she never once hesitated to get up in front of a group and be her silly little self. I still smile when I think of the times she was in charge of recreation at a 4-H Federation meeting and went to the front of the room to start us out in a silly song of "Hi, my name is Joe … and I work in a button factory. The other day, my boss came up to me, and he said, ‘Hi Joe, are you busy?’ and I said, ‘No.’"

The song is filled with actions that many in the 4-H world may still be able to act out today. Andrea had the actions down pat.

I think her favorite 4-H song was Singin’ in the Rain, and watching her sing and act it out, well, it just made us all laugh.

Actually, my favorite memory of Andrea is about her and her ducks that she showed at the Nobles County Fair.

Andrea’s ducks were always so clean … and there is a good story behind it.

We were competitors in the poultry show … more so in the showmanship contest. I showed turkeys and chickens, Andrea showed her ducks … and she was determined that they be the cleanest, shiniest ducks in the pen.

One year, as we were working to get our birds ready for the show, Andrea pulled out a toothbrush and started to tell us about how she brushed her ducks’ teeth. Her eyes lit up and a smile filled her face as she held a duck firmly in her arms and coaxed its bill open with the toothbrush.

It was the funniest thing I had ever seen.

I was sharing that story with my editor Monday afternoon and he asked me who won the showmanship contest that year. You know, I can’t recall. It seems to me the trophy usually went to the Ruesch clan, whether it was Andrea or one of her siblings.

Oftentimes I ponder just what I was meant to do here on Earth. Am I doing as God intended? Am I making a difference in the lives of others?

There are many days when I can’t answer those questions.

But Andrea … well, I know Andrea made a difference. She made a difference in the lives of young kids and had a knack for making people smile. She was one of the most positive-thinking people I knew, and I know she will be greatly missed.